I remember the day we met, you hunched over the desk of a coworker, me, in the door frame, muttering something about something else not working. I figured you’d totally think I’m an idiot, not knowing what I am talking about when it comes to any kind of technology. Being in a tech job and you being hired to teach us technology, I was mortified by you listening to my mumble and surely judging me. You seemed cold, distant. Annoyed, even. But then things changed ... I remember the first dinner out together, when we were mostly bitching about work, frustrations and what not ... we agreed on so much. I figured we must have something in common because we could not give two thoughts about the lemon wedged on our water glasses. We both mindlessly (maybe me, less so, since I noticed) let them fall into the glasses. I remember when I asked you if you collected anything and you promptly said “I buy a souvenir coffee mug on every one of my trips.” I chuckled, as a “friend” because I figured silently in my head that “so do I and I always thought that was weird.” I remember when I asked you if you wanted kids and you pretty much said in no ambiguous terms that hell-crap-no. I chuckled again and thought you might not be real. But we were friends then. Two and a half years since the day we met, we decided we’d exhausted all the friendship juice we could get and we decided to date, then got engaged 5 months later, and married 5 months after that ... I thought then and I think now: we are weird in the same identical ways. If I am hard to live with for most people, so are you, but you’re so easy to live with, for me ... I remember us being locked out of my car in the middle of a blizzard on Grandfather Mountain. I remember driving for hours in the dark, at the end of a hard work day to get to our hotel in Bryce Canyon only to discover the hotel is closed for the season, although we very clearly made confirmed reservations online. I remember you feeding iguanas in Honduras and us hiking the rain forest in Hawaii - eucalyptus trees towering over us and no snakes in sight. I remember our drives across the country, East to West, and back ... Our drive across “the windy states” rushing to beat out the tornadoes chasing us. I remember the fear, and stress of moving three cats from hotel to hotel room every night till we made it to Utah. I remember all the trips, the camper - what a heaven that was! On top of the world, in The Rockies, so close to the sky and the stars we could smell and hear them - and peace. Quiet, crisp air and big sky. I remember you showing me around your favorite mountains (Montana) and me showing you around mine (Pojorata), on another continent. I remember how we discovered that we both read the mountains through our souls; how they speak to us; how we cannot live too far away from them. Ever. I love the photography archive we built together over the years. Every frame tells me a story of you being there, close by - making it that much more special. I remember you taking me to my first casino where I won $20 the second I touched the machine. I remember lots of firsts ... The first house we got together, the first car, the first piece of furniture. I remember the first B52 you ordered for me and how it became my favorite cocktail, just like yours. I remember how we lost the cats, and then how we found another one that filled the massive void the others left behind. I never knew that could be possible, but you persisted and I am glad you did. I remember how we both thought on our own what to name our cat - the very same thing - without so much as ever mentioning a thing about that to one another. In the same breath. In the same sentence. That was spooky! I remember the hard times, too, because it would not be real life without them. The losses, the pain. The jobs gone, the money we lost here and there, the scare of a (literal) broken heart (mine), the gentle walk between life and death, the daunting 12+hour surgery in a dinky (some may think!) little mountain town in Utah, the amazing empathy and care you’re capable of (your most amazing and more hidden gift!) that built me back up when that ordeal was over. The hard times - they all seemed less hard because you were there, through it all ... It still boggles my mind that 1. God made two people so similar to the point of being identical, almost, and put them at opposite ends of the Earth from one another in the first place; and 2. He somehow made it possible for us to meet and live out our lives together. My life is what it is today because you walked into that newspaper building that day and because I walked into that office. It was like I turned a sharp corner and it was all flat and easy from then on out ... I would not be who I am today without you in my life. I have never been more “me” than since I’ve met you. You complete me and let me be free ...
I love my me-ness and your you-ness when we’re together the most. I love how people think you’re ever so serious and stern but how you keep me in stitches, all the same ... Don’t dare change! Don’t dare run away! Love you more each day, if such a thing is possible, and I am grateful for all of it. Happy birthday, my love! And here’s to the next 55!
No comments:
Post a Comment